


frayed

by DesertLily



Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt No Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not A Fix-It, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, rope burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27273085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertLily/pseuds/DesertLily
Summary: Jaskier gets kidnapped. Geralt isn't fast enough to save him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946296
Comments: 8
Kudos: 152
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	frayed

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly late fic for whumptober day twenty nine: Rope burns

Jaskier had always been too liberal with his heart. He had always given it out far too easily; left himself open time and time again to the brutal blows of rejection. But there wasn’t a single rejection that stung as much as Geralt’s had. For over two decades, he had followed the witcher blindly. He had been there by his side throughout the thick and thin. Jaskier had fallen helplessly in love with him. It was near impossible to spend that much time with someone and not develop feelings that went far beyond friendship. Especially when it came to someone who was a romantic by trade. Jaskier sung songs about love stories and had foolishly thought himself to be living through one. 

Deep down, he knew there was no real chance of a relationship between him and Geralt. There never had been. Witchers didn’t just...settle down and live a peaceful life. They kept fighting until the very end. Still, it didn’t stop Jaskier dreaming. It didn’t stop Jaskier imagining spending the rest of his life with Geralt; spending as much time with the witcher as he could until he ran out of days. But every time Jaskier so much as suggested the two take a small break together, Geralt dismissed him out of hand. There was no reality in Jaskier’s dreams. Only hope. 

Then Yennefer came into the picture and that hope began to fade. Her and Geralt were like fire and ice; two absolute opposites that somehow worked in unison. Both tilted on destroying the other and they simply  _ worked _ together. If Geralt was fire then Jaskier was a candle; only useful when attached to a flame. Insignificant if alone. He was not some grand sorcerer enchanted to be eternally beautiful. He was just Jaskier. A bard that wasn’t half as extraordinary as he claimed to be. In comparison to Yennefer, he was nothing. So why was he surprised when Geralt wanted her and not him? 

Geralt shattered his heart into a thousand lost pieces on the mountain. “ _ If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands. _ ” The words haunted him. His dreams of Geralt were now replaced with nightmares of the words being screamed at him. Fond memories were twisted and distorted. Had they really been good memories or had Geralt just forced himself to put up with Jaskier? Had their friendship been real…? It had to have been! They spent years together. That wasn’t faked, right? It...It couldn’t be. But Geralt did not come after Jaskier after the mountain. He did not spare the bard a single thought. Ironic seeing as the witcher still consumed all of his. 

Consumed by his own heartbreak and moping, Jaskier’s mind was anywhere but in the present. Usually it wasn’t much of an issue considering there was a witcher by his side but now he was very much alone. It was why he didn’t notice he was in danger until it was too late. Not that it would have done him much good. Armed with nothing but his lute, Jaskier was no match for the bandits that attacked him. They outnumbered him ten to one and he had no choice but to comply. 

The reason they gave for kidnapping him left his heart feeling heavy. For some convoluted reason, they wanted revenge against Geralt and Jaskier was known to travel with him. It at least meant they didn’t plan on killing him straight away. They would either wait for Geralt to show up or kill him when they inevitably realised the witcher no longer cared for his former bard. So thus he found himself bound in the bandits’ camp. They at least ‘attempted’ to look after him - if he could be called that. They still made sure he ate and drank. After all, none of the bandits wanted their hostage to die before he could serve his purpose. 

But, as the days went on, it began to grow more and more obvious that Geralt wasn’t coming. He tried to keep his head held high. He tried to focus on the smaller things and not his impending death. Such as the rope wrapped tightly around his hands. Jaskier had asked for it to be loosened but it only led to it being tightened. It dug deep into his skin, leaving his hands feeling nearly numb. It harshly rubbed and twisted against his skin at every movement he gave. Jaskier didn’t doubt that, if he ever got out of there, there would be scars left behind. The rope was already bloodied from the way the bristles wore away and tore at his skin. But it was also a reminder that he was still alive. There was still a chance of him getting out of this. 

When the rope around his hands was cut, Jaskier knew something terrible was about to happen. There was no way they were going to let him go and Geralt was nowhere in sight. They’d had enough waiting. Apparently, there was something else the bandits enjoyed outside of holding bards hostage; bloodsport. Jaskier had been given one order. Run. He had never run that fast before in his life even if he did know it was inevitable. Jaskier doubted they were close to any settlements and he couldn’t outrun them forever. The first arrow that hit him was proof enough of that. It tore through his flesh like it was nothing, embedding itself deep within his shoulder. 

More arrows followed until Jaskier fell onto his knees. This was it. He looked up as the leader of the bandits approached, knife in hand. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to be over. Only...the final hit didn’t come. Instead, the sound of metal on mental filled his ears. His eyes snapped open. A very familiar figure was cutting through the bandits as if they were  _ nothing _ . Though, Jaskier supposed they were. Everyone was in comparison to Geralt of Rivia. 

The world around Jaskier began to fade in and out of focus. Oh. It seemed the arrows had done more damage than he had realised. How unfortunate. Not that it mattered. Geralt hadn’t really been there to rescue him. It had just been a coincidence. One big unrelated coincidence. Geralt hated him. Geralt would never save him. Consciousness had begun to fade when he felt the arms around him, moving to pick him up with ease. 

“Damn it, Jaskier!” As always, Geralt sounded positively miserable. It was...almost reassuring really. “I can’t trust you to stay out of trouble for five minutes…” If he could, Jaskier would have laughed. He would have retorted with some witty quip that would lead to Geralt hitting him before things went back to normal. But he couldn’t. Everything  _ hurt _ and he found his eyes beginning to droop closed. “Jaskier?!” The frantic voice of the witcher was the last thing Jaskier would ever hear. 

His last thought before pure nothingness was spent on how nice it felt to no longer have the ropes digging into his wrists.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated or hmu @ desert-lily on tumblr!


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